Chapter Text
"Cancelled??!? Wha- they cancelled us two hours before the show?!? The freakin' Squidmas Rock/Pop Special?!?"
"Yup," said Kuze, giving Noiji's shoulder a reassuring pat when the inkling took on a stricken expression. "Sorry, man. Just not safe enough to be doin' a whole concert in this weather, apparently."
"Not canceled!" piped up Namida, walking at Kuze's elbow. "Rescheduled. We'll get to it sooner or later." Her usually orange tentacles were currently a sort of icy white-blue, shifted to fit the seasonal performance. Despite the rescheduling, she hadn’t bothered to change them back.
Noiji nodded solemnly (his own tentacles were the same shade as Namida’s). "Yeah, yeah." He heaved a dramatic sigh. "Man, I'd be mad right now if I'd bought tickets. But- and we're stuck here? Like, c'mon! They can't airlift us out, or something??"
"S'about visibility or wind-speed or some kelp splatter-shit like that." Taka, slouching a few feet in front of them, turned and started walking backwards to add his two cents. "Apparently, everybody agreed that it was fine to just stay here, or something?" He scoffed. "I blame management."
"Well, hey," Namida tried, with an optimistic shrug. "We've got the place to ourselves, and it's warm, and we're in good company… could be worse, right?"
Taka raised an eyebrow at 'good company', but relented. "Better than being buried alive out there, I guess," he muttered, glancing out a window facing into the hotel building's courtyard.
They all paused, gazing out the window with him. There wasn't much to see, swirling snow obscuring most of the view. A few lights cut through the whiteout, but it wasn't enough to make out anything other than vague shapes. Kuze knew that there was already at least a foot out there, thanks to the briefing management sent everybody- they'd all be stuck overnight here, waiting out the worst of the storm. Needless to say, everybody was pretty disappointed. Sure, the Starfish Mainstage StarHousing® was nice enough, but… well, it didn't come with the adrenaline rush that performing live brought on, nor was it the comfort of your own home.
"Yeesh," Taka intoned, and pivoted to continue marching down the carpeted hallway. "You clowns coming?"
Kuze laughed gently at Namida's responding scoff. "Be right there, man. You won't miss us!"
"Correct," Taka called back to him with a snort. "Be in the Rec Room."
"Hoy," breathed Noiji. "Ol' Rec Room." He puffed air on the window, drawing a simple swim-form inkling in the condensation. "Good, quiet ol' Rec Room."
"Aw, c'mon, Noiji!" Namida popped up beside him, adding her own little finger-sketch squid to the window. "Sure, it's not wailing like a maniac on stage, but we've got frozen waffles in the fridge, squid grapes, uh."
Noiji looked at her, one eyebrow raised doubtfully.
"Uh," said Namida. She thought for a second and looked to Kuze for help.
"Squidmas lights?" suggested Kuze. "Like, a surplus of Squidmas lights management dug out. There's gotta be forty feet of those things."
Noiji's other eyebrow went up. "For eel? Can we use them??"
"Sure," shrugged Kuze. "No one said we couldn't."
Noiji inclined his head slowly, looking down at Namida before giving her a sharp tap on the shoulder. "Tag," he grinned, and shot off down the hall.
Namida let out a betrayed gasp, scrambling to chase after him. Kuze chuckled to himself as the pair startled Taka when they pounded past.
…
The Rec Room was the odd attempt at a third-floor common area. It had assorted pieces of furniture, a TV hanging off one wall, one window, and a small side room containing a simple kitchen. The walls were a warm shade of butter yellow; the floor a sort of dark plank, adorned with a single multi-coloured throw rug in front of the couch. It was the place that they ( they being namely High Tide Era, though sometimes included Squid Squad and ABXY) often found themselves frequenting during show downtime. It was a bit dated, but it did the job it had been built for.
When Kuze turned the corner to push the door open, he couldn't help but raise his eyebrows. Noiji and Namida had really taken the Squidmas lights idea and run with it. They also appeared to have recruited most of the rest of the set list into their schemes.
"What's goin' on in here?" Kuze inquired, plopping down on the worn couch in front of the TV. Noiji had located a stepladder and was perched at the top of it, securing Squidmas lights to the wall near the ceiling. Namida was waiting patiently at the bottom of the ladder as he untangled the cords.
Paruko and Ikkan, also at the couch, glanced over at him. "What isn't?" Ikkan muttered, from where he was leaning over the back of the couch on his elbows. Similarly to Namida and Noiji, he’d also changed his ink colour over to the white-blue, and so had Ichiya, on the other side of the room.
“And then- oh, here’s these!” Noiji passed Namida the end of a string of lights. “Plug ‘em in over there when I give the word, huh? Go, go, go!”
Namida took it with a laugh and dashed across the room to the outlet, lights trailing behind her. “Here?”
“There!” Noiji cried, thrusting both hands above his head in excitement. “Just a sec!!”
To Kuze’s left, Paruko sipped her drink carefully and said “Like. Is this gonna throw any breakers, or whatever?”
“Probably,” hummed Ikkan. “Any second, now.”
Kuze nodded. “Should we stop them?”
Paruko and Ikkan exchanged a mutually vacant glance. “Nah,” said Paruko. “It’ll be funny.”
Kuze shrugged, grinning in agreement, and they all turned their attention back to the shenanigans on the stepladder. Noiji was still teetering at the top of it, thumbing instructions to Nishida, who was holding the thing and rolling it back and forth to Noiji’s endless whims.
“Will this throw any breakers?” Murasaki (who was helping by holding coils upon coils of Squidmas lights) looked up to Taka (helping by drinking suavely from a can of coke as he apparently supervised). “I mean, this seems like a lot.”
Taka made a noise of dismissal. “Naahhh. It’s a stadium built for concert shit. S’not like a few lights are gonna blow everything up.”
“He’s probably right,” Nishida added quietly. “They’ve got a good set-up, I think.”
Murasaki shuffled the lights in his arms and looked doubtful.
“Everything good down there?” Noiji called across the room to Raian, who was stringing yet-unlit lights around the shelves. They responded with an incline of the head. “Okay! Okay, Nami’s crew?”
Paruko elbowed Kuze excitedly and sat forwards to watch.
“Aye-aye, Captain!” Ichiya barked. “Strung up and ready to sing!” he grinned, both thumbs up. Namida nodded heartily.
“Okay! Alright, let’s do this!” Noiji managed to swivel on the top step, precariously reaching over to the two cords hanging in front of his face. “Shikaku?”
Kuze and the rest of Couch Club glanced over to the other corner of the small room, where Shikaku was poised expectantly over a cheap drum set. He gave a half-salute with one claw and started up a low drumroll, laughing when Noiji whooped in barely contained excitement.
“Alright!” the inkling crowed, holding both plugs over his head so the whole room could see. “Give ‘er!!!”
Namida jammed her string of lights into the plug, and they immediately erupted in flickering shades of white and gold. Noiji stuck the other end into the second string he held, and both the coils in Murasaki’s arms and the lengths hung around by Raian lit up, all different colours and pulse frequencies and shapes. It was pretty impressive. The Couch Club gave a unanimous sigh when the overhead lights stayed very firmly on.
“Shell yeah!” Noiji all but fell from the ladder, scrambling over to Murasaki’s side. “Ready, Lieutenant?”
“Sir, yes, sir!” chirped Murasaki, passing a few coils to Noiji. They turned away from each other and dashed in different directions along the walls, dropping the lights as they went. Kuze twisted in his seat to watch them meet perfectly as the lights ran out on either side of the door; Noiji jumped to drape his over a tack pounded into the wall over the door, hoisting the young urchin up momentarily to let him hang his own string.
“Well!” said Noiji happily, turning with a dramatic out-swing of a leg. “Whaddyu guys think, huh? Pretty sweet?”
There was a general hum of agreement from around the room, with a cheer from Namida and Ichiya. Nishida clapped politely.
“Bit disappointed, myself,” murmured Paruko, and Kuze and Ikkan chuckled.
“Heard that!” Noiji called to her, pointing an accusing finger. “Such a killjoy!”
Paruko smiled to herself and said nothing at first, taking a swig from her pop. Then she gestured with an upwards nod of her head: “I just mean you, like, missed some, though.”
All heads turned, and sure enough, on a stool behind the low bar counter in the kitchen, almost out of sight, was a short line of fairy lights.
“C’mon,” sighed Taka, even as Noiji launched himself over the counter into the little side-room-kitchen-thing to retrieve the forgotten decorations, “it isn’t even big enough to do anything with.” He chuckled at that, and Nishida elbowed him disapprovingly. Taka glared at him for a beat and resumed: “And they’re pretty ugly, too. Why do you need to… yeah. Alright.”
Noiji had raced back over to the door, standing on tiptoes to click the strand into place between the ones hanging on the door. It took a second, everyone else looking on, rapt, as he strained to reach. Finally, they went together, lighting up brilliantly with the rest of them. Noiji stepped back to admire his handiwork. “There we g-!”
There was a slow, high-pitched whining sound as the lights overhead died. This was followed by several beats of silence.
“...Nuts,” came Noiji’s voice from the darkness, and the Couch Club chortled to themselves in victory.
“You guys, hush.” Noiji sighed, defeated. “Man. Cod forbid a guy does anything around here.”
“Shouldn’t’a done that,” came Taka’s voice from across the room, and his phone flashlight clicked on, blinding everyone in its path.
“Yeah, I think we’d figured that one out, Sherlock.” Ichiya brought out his own flashlight, pulling the plug from the wall.
“No, dipshit,” Taka retorted, turning his light on the inkling. “I mean that it shouldn’t have tripped any breakers.”
“Then why’re the lights out?”
“Piss if I know,” said Taka eloquently. “Maybe something else.”
“It is storming outside, still,” added Nishida. “Could that have something to do with it?”
“My good man, what an excellent idea.” Taka flicked his flashlight over to Murasaki and Noiji, still standing by the door. “Is it dark in the halls, too?”
Murasaki reached up and pulled the door open, and together he and Noiji peered into the pitch black of the hallway. “Yuh-huh.”
“Not my fault, then!” laughed Noiji, tone relieved, and put a hand up to air-high-five Shikaku across the dark room.
“But why’s the power out, then?” Namida asked, going over to look down the dark hallway for herself. “Think it’s a blackout, maybe?”
There was a kachunk sort of sound as the emergency lights on one side of the room slammed on at that moment, startling several people. Taka hummed and switched his phone off.
“Looks like.” He nodded his head out the one window over the sink in the kitchen. The twinkling lights of the city that had been filtering past the snowflakes were dark, only a line along the horizon still lit. “That looks pretty genuine, too.”
He stared out the window for a moment, tail twitching in thought, then looked to Kuze. “You wanna come with me and find the manual generator switch? It’ll be a blast.”
“And that is… where?” Kuze stood, brushing himself off. “Basement?”
“Maybe,” said Taka. “If they even have one. If it was automatic, would’a come on by now. Whatever.” He pointed to Ikkan. “We’re bringing flashlight boy with us, ‘cause my phone’s about to die and as far as I can remember, there’s no freaking lights like those in the stairwells.”
“Flashlight boy?” Ikkan repeated, sounding very mildly offended. “No one else has a light on their phone, then?”
“Well, no, but if we’ve gotta be movin’ shit out’a the way to get to the generator switch -I know the people that run this place are clowns like that- you’re the conveniently glowy, modestly strong dude for the job.” He cocked his head at a self-satisfied angle. “You coming, or no?”
Ikkan blinked at him, neutral expression broken only by the slight, amused quirk of an eyebrow. “I’m flattered. Sure, why not?”
“Nice. And… hm, I dunno. Namida and Ichiya are the tech team- see if you can find out what's happened, exactly.” He pointed to Paruko. “You’re in charge while I'm gone, ‘kay?”
“Cheers,” said Paruko.
Murasaki politely inquired, “Who put you in charge in the first place?”
“Me,” said Taka, spreading his arms like this was obvious. “Figured the smartest, most logical dude in the room should take the lead. Am I right?”
“Literally anyone else,” Nishida muttered to Kuze, having appeared over his shoulder to observe, and he stifled a laugh.
…
“Alrighty, then.” Taka directed the light from Kuze’s borrowed phone at the sign over the door the three of them had come to. “Some fucking stairs, finally.”
Kuze hummed his agreement. They’d been wandering around in the sporadically-lit-but-mainly-pitch-dark of the floor they were on for some time now, Taka guiding the way with Kuze’s phone light and his constant air of confidence, Ikkan trailing behind the other two with his bio-light as strong as it would go, wavering white-blue shadows over the walls between the emergency LEDs. There was a sort of muted silence reverberating through the dark, suffocating on all sides.
Taka moved the phone over to the floor listings sign beside the door. “Okay, we’re on three, which means we gotta go past two, one, main … Main? What was wrong with… whatever.” He scratched his nose thoughtfully. “ Then to the basement.” He glanced behind him. “Ready for eight flights of stairs, men?”
“Nothin’ else to do, man,” said Kuze, and Ikkan just yawned.
“Great,” said Taka, and pushed the door open. “Ladies first.”
“Go on, then, you’re holding us up,” muttered Ikkan, and went through first anyway. Taka scowled after him.
Ikkan took the lead, illuminating the dark steps as they descended (Taka thought it best to save the charge on Kuze’s phone, which was at a dismal 17%), listening to the echo of each footfall. Down one flight, a pause at the landing to recollect themselves and glance out the window (the sprawl of Inkopolis was indeed just as dark as the inside of the hall, eerily still and swirling with snow) before continuing on again. Six flights left. Five. Two, then one…
“Geez,” muttered Ikkan, when they finally reached the bottom. “I’m kinda lightheaded.”
“Oh, what, stairs were too much for you?” Taka teased, poking the inkling in the arm. “You old geezer.”
“Suck a lemon,” retorted Ikkan. “No, not the stairs. It’s the lights.” He pointed to his own face, where the brightest of the lightspots were wavering gently. “It’s like… like grinning for too long when you don’t actually mean it. But all over.”
Taka flicked his eyes over the inkling and sighed. “Hang in there, flashlight boy," he said, thumping Ikkan on the shoulder encouragingly as he went past him to the door to the basement. "Almost done.”
Ikkan let out a breath through his teeth. Kuze smiled at him apologetically.
“Ok,” breathed Taka, when they at last descended the final flight of steps, facing the entrance to the boiler room. “Let’s, uh… here.” He handed Kuze’s phone to Ikkan. “Feel free to turn that on for a bit, if you need. Shine that thing over here, will you?”
“Thanks,” Ikkan grunted, and replaced his own light with the phone’s, lightspots flickering to a much dimmer glow.
Taka dug around in a pocket for a second before producing a set of keys, fitting one into the lock in the doorknob. He jiggled it for a second and then the door came open with a clunk sort of noise, deafening in the quiet. “Move out.”
The other two followed him in, looking around the poorly-lit darkness warily as their ears were filled with the faint hum-swish of miscellaneous machinery. Taka took the phone again and swept the light around, searching for the back-up generator. It sat in a back corner, sure enough obscured by a number of odd items and boxes.
“Idiots,” grunted Taka, and strode over to it. He shoved the phone in the waistband of his pants, lifting one of the boxes out of the way. “Well, are you guys gonna help, or just stand there?”
Ikkan groaned faintly, but exchanged a look with Kuze and went over. Kuze followed, glancing about the room. There wasn’t much he could make out, pilot lights flickering at him in the receding shadows like beady eyes. It smelled of dust and mothballs and something oddly salty.
It was a few moments before the control panel was cleared of junk, but they finally shoved everything off to one corner and got around to blowing away the dust. Thankfully, it was blatantly labelled, and it took much less time to flick one lever back and forth, restarting the thing. A low, whirring hum faded in, rumbling into a growly sort of drone just on the edge of hearing. Lights above the door clicked on after a few seconds, illuminating the place in the warm glow of the regular lighting.
“Thank the goddess.” Taka switched the phone off and handed it back to Kuze. “Ok. Back up eight flights of stairs, then. You guys wanna-” He cut himself off sharply, ears twitching back and forth. “Did you guys hear that?”
Kuze and Ikkan stopped to listen. After a few uneventful seconds, Ikkan whispered “Hear what, exactly?”
Taka was quiet for another beat, tail flicking behind him irritably. “…dunno. Sounded like… nevermind. Let’s get back upstairs. This place is rank.”
Kuze took the rear as they left, glancing back one last time into the room before he closed the door. The salty smell was lingering in his nose uncomfortably.
…
The lights were back on, stairs much easier to traverse than in the dark. Ikkan seemed glad to not be the main light source anymore, marching steadily ahead of the other two.
“Hey, asshole!” Taka hollered up at the inkling. “Wait up, will ya?”
Ikkan paused to glance back at them. “Oh, what,” he asked evenly, “the stairs are too much for you?”
Kuze let out a bark of laughter at Taka’s disdainful expression and Ikkan just shook his head, faintest of smiles on his face. He let them catch up, and they rounded the final flight of stairs as a trio. They had to go through the door single-file, of course, and Ikkan, still at the lead, lurched suddenly to a stop in the doorway to avoid being run down by a pair of figures pounding past.
“Oh!” said the figure in front, apparently Noiji, and stopped so sharply that Raian nearly crashed into him. “Hey, guys! Sorry ‘bout that!”
Taka stuck his head through the space above Ikkan’s (he was blocking the door) and looked the ABXY members over. “What’re you people doing?”
Noiji looked down at himself, holding quite the armful of snack foods and drinks. “Heh. Raiding vending machines.” He glanced behind him, past Raian (also laden with foodstuffs) to the far end of the hall. “Nishida and Shikaku should be here in a second. We’ve already done two runs.”
Taka looked down at Ikkan and Kuze in apparent disbelief and then back up at Noiji. “Why?”
Noiji looked to Raian and back. “Uh. ‘Cause Paruko said so? And you put her in charge.”
Kuze chuckled. “Abusing her power, is she?”
“There’s nothing interesting to eat back in the Rec Room” Noiji shrugged, “so it made sense.”
“Except the grapes,” Raian added at a near-whisper. "And the wax fruit."
“’Cept the wax fruit,” the inkling sighed. “Found that out the hard way.” He looked down the hall again. “There they are!!”
Everyone else glanced down the hall. Nishida and Shikaku were strolling towards them, deep in conversation about something, both with the same cargo as Noiji and Raian.
"How did you get all that stuff, exactly?" asked Kuze. “Quarter by quarter?”
"Ah," Noiji nodded. "Vending machines, you know, they'd be pretty easy access for us inklings if they didn't squid-proof 'em. But I-'' he couldn't tap the side of his head conspiratorially with his arms full, but one got the idea "- I am wisened in the art. You just gotta know what panels to jiggle on the back and wham, float's your uncle." Readjusting his armful, he added, “And you know what? They just make it easier by having all the same model. Most places like this have a variety, y’know- two, three, even four different brands, and that means you gotta get into ‘em differently. Not here. All Pikki-Fish 720’s. Their Visi-Combos are easiest to get into, anyway. Good brand choice, I’ll tell ya.”
Kuze considered this, mildly overwhelmed, glancing up at Taka for his opinion (a shake of the head and a shrug). "Isn't that, like, theft?"
"I'm writing a check when we get out," said Nishida. "We considered it, but."
"Why you?" Taka demanded tersely. "It was the anemone's idea, wasn't it?"
"We drew straws," was Nishida's even response. "We're all loaded, Taka. It comes out to only around sixty thousand gesos, anyways."
" Only ," Taka scoffed. "Whatever. Can we get a move on?"
…
"We're back!!" Noiji hollered, kicking the door open with one foot. "And we found the cave divers!"
There was a general sound of greeting. Paruko, perched on the back of the couch with her tail curled around herself, nodded. "Hey. Thanks for the light, cave divers. Snack crew, would you put those on the folding?"
Noiji laughed and dashed across the now illuminated room to dump his armful on the already covered folding table, followed by the rest of the so-called snack crew. "Found some kelp sheets in the ones on the fourth floor, Paruko! Want 'em?"
Kuze resumed his spot on the couch as Noiji distributed drinks and foodstuffs by pitching them across the room. "Holdin' down the fort?" he asked Paruko.
Paruko, mouth full of seaweed, only nodded. Bipu darted around her head to pick at the empty container she held, and she swatted them away. "Pretty uneventful. What was downstairs?"
"The basement." Kuze chuckled at her roll of eyes. "Not a lot. Furnaces 'n stuff, mostly."
"Hot water heaters?"
The stonefish shrugged. "Shell if I know. Probably. Smelled weird down there, man."
Paruko hummed. "Like… salty?"
"Yeah!" Kuze felt his eyebrows go up. "How'd you know?"
"Bipu likes the breeze from the vent." She prodded the clownfish with one finger. "So I'm standing in front of it, getting a face full of vent, and. Yeah. Smelled salty."
Kuze nodded, thoughtful. "I guess it's coming from down there if it's in the vents, huh."
"What's in the vent?"
"Ah, good," said Paruko severely, as Ikkan sank onto the couch beside Kuze. "Couch Club, reunited."
Kuze scooted to one side to make room for the inkling. "Did you notice any weird smells when we were downstairs?"
Ikkan blinked slowly at him. "Uh. Well, now that you've mentioned it, maybe. Like ink."
The other two blinked back, though Kuze was making more of a face than Paruko. "Like ink?"
Ikkan nodded. "If it's been sitting for a bit, it smells kinda salty. Bit gross, to be honest, but I guess inklings get kinda desensitised to it."
"Huh," said Paruko. "Why would the basement smell like ink?"
Ikkan just shrugged.
"Hey!" Murasaki popped up in front of them, pointing. "Could I have those?"
The Couch Club looked between themselves in confusion, previous discussion momentarily forgotten. Ikkan asked "Have what ?"
"The cushions," said Murasaki. "Me 'n Noiji 'n Ichiya are making a pillow fort." He glanced behind him. "Ichiya brought the blankets from our rooms, but Namida wouldn't let us take the mattress down the stairs."
"Good for her," sighed Ikkan, running a hand down his face. "Must you?"
"I mean," said Murasaki, "no. But it would be really quite terribly upsetting if I didn't. The fort structure depends on those cushions, you see."
"There's a cushion in the chair over there," Kuze suggested. "Why not that one, huh?"
Murasaki pivoted on the spot to appraise the chair cushion. "Hm. We could try it. Might not be as good but…"
"Couch Club lives another day," said Paruko, when Murasaki went to tug the cushion from the chair. "Yahoo."
"Yahoo," Ikkan and Kuze repeated. Kuze put more effort into it, of course.
"Anyways," he said. "Ink? In the basement?" He looked to Ikkan. "That's none of you guys, right?"
"Unless there was an impromptu Turf War that I wasn't invited to, no. And I'm pretty sure we're not even allowed weapons in here, anyway." He crossed his arms over his chest, half-covering a yawn. "Probably something we should be worried about, right?"
Kuze put a knuckle to his chin in thought. "Taka said… Taka!"
Taka, across the room on the far side of the fort construction, looked up from where Murasaki seemed to be explaining something. "What?"
Kuze beckoned him over. "When we were in the basement," he asked, in hushed tones, "and you said you'd heard something… what did it sound like?"
Taka chewed his lip. "Uh. I dunno. It's kind of an old building, cous-cous. They make weird sounds."
Paruko squinted at Taka. " Cous-cous ?"
Taka pointedly ignored her. "Frankly," he said, “it was probably the yahoos raiding the vending machines running around.” He shrugged and then turned to Ikkan. "Are you gonna give your eight-year-old the pillows, flashlight boy?"
Ikkan, eyes closed and head against the back of the couch, gave a sigh. "He's sixteen."
"Po-tay-to, po-tah-to," said Taka. "He says the chair thing isn't good enough. Noiji and no-brows are backing him up."
Kuze stifled a laugh when the inkling somehow managed to shoot Taka a look of death without even opening his eyes. "Murasaki?" he called.
Murasaki looked over. "Ikkan."
Ikkan scrubbed at his eyes with one hand and sat forwards. "Will you take a fifty-fifty?"
The urchin thought for a few seconds, and then nodded. "It's a deal."
"Pleasure doing business," said Ikkan, and stood to pull one of two cushions out and take it over.
"Alas," said Paruko. "Couch Club… dissolved by outside influence."
"Yahoo," agreed Kuze, doing his best to make it sound sombre.
"You guys are nuts," said Taka.
…
"Two jacks," said Nishida, and put the cards in the centre of the circle. He leaned back, tail curled in glee and expression smug- but it was dampened with the odd angle he was hunched at to avoid hitting the ceiling of the blanket fort.
"Fuck you," said Ichiya bitterly. "Pass."
"Pass," said Murasaki. "I hate this game."
An hour had elapsed since the power had gone out. The tech team had discovered that about an eighth of Inkopolis was in a state of emergency, the storm having damaged some major transmission lines. Or something. Kuze was infinitely grateful he wasn't one of the people out in the cold, frantically trying to restore power.
"Two aces," Raian murmured, putting their last cards down. They gave a faint smile when Noiji hung his head, heaving out a dramatic breath of defeat.
"Raian wins again." He lolled against the octopus, making them laugh quietly. "I'm gonna be stuck as janitor forever, aren't I?"
"No, you are not," said Ichiya, and leaned forwards to scoop the pile of cards in the middle into an orderly stack. "Because I refuse to play again. Absolutely not."
Noiji sobbed, "My hero."
"Aw," said Raian softly. "Why not?"
"You know exactly why, you maniac." Ichiya put a hand out and with another laugh, Raian gave him the box. "You've totally destroyed us in everything we've played. I quit."
"Remind me to never play poker with you," sighed Kuze, and handed Ichiya his own cards so the inkling could jam them unceremoniously into the cardboard box. "Menace."
"Utterly deranged," Nishida added.
"Crazy ass," huffed Ichiya, still trying to force the cards into the box.
Murasaki threw in, " Despicable ."
"Lunatic," Kuze nodded sagely.
Noiji just made assorted gurgling noises, falling backwards onto the hardwood floor and pushing himself out of the fort with his feet.
"Bye," said Raian, watching him go.
"Nothin' personal, Raian," said Noiji from outside the fort.
"It's personal." Ichiya finally gave up on the cards and dumped them on the ground. "It is so personal, you wouldn't believe ."
Kuze chortled at them. He scooted backwards, careful not to tug the blanket down as he went, holding it out to let the others follow behind him. The ceiling lamps made him squint. He glanced around; the room was pretty quiet as compared to an hour ago, the whimsy of being trapped worn off. Paruko and Taka were milling around in the kitchen, arguing as per usual, digging through the freezer with a flashlight. Ikkan was still slumped on the couch, totally unconscious. Namida and Shikaku were nowhere to be seen.
“You turn your back for an hour, and suddenly the party’s dead.” Noiji hadn’t gotten up from the floor yet, hands folded over his chest, staring up at the plaster ceiling.
“Guess we were just the life of it, huh?” Kuze smiled. “They couldn't keep up without us.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Taka strode out from the kitchen, toaster under one arm. “You guys played cards in a blanket fort for forty minutes; I'd hardly call you the life of the party.”
Paruko, following behind him, shrugged. "I dunno. S'a good blanket fort." She was carrying a plate and a couple boxes of frozen waffles. "Over there's good, right?"
"What's with the waffles?" Ichiya asked.
"This, my eyebrow-less friend," said Taka, "is dinner." He looked where Paruko was pointing and shook his head. "There's plugs that aren't on the floor, right?"
"...there's plugs in the kitchen, right?" Nishida inquired, watching as Paruko shrugged again and followed Taka to the other side of the room. "Why in here?"
"All the ones in the kitchen are dead," explained Paruko, and then had to stop in her tracks when Taka pivoted unexpectedly to change his mind about where the toaster should go. “Not the fridge, though.”
“Might have thrown a breaker after all, then, huh Noiji?” Nishida laughed, nudging the inkling in the side with his foot.
Noiji crossed his arms. “You know, I think I’d like to take pride in that.”
“Nah, probably just some dumb-ass oversight by electrical.” There was a clattering as Taka swept an arm out to knock some of the snacks off the folding table, plunking the toaster down in the empty space. “Waffle girl. Get over here.”
Paruko stuck her tongue out at Taka’s back. “We were talking while you guys were busy doing blanket fort things,” she said to Kuze. “Personally, I think I should be the one in charge here."
Kuze nodded thoughtfully, looking to Nishida's amused expression. "Never really took you to be the kind of kid to wanna be in charge in the first place."
Paruko shrugged. "Maybe not. But then again, I'm not so sure that Taka has it in him." She tore open the box of frozen waffles, plunking two in the toaster and pushing them down. "He disagrees, of course."
"Of course," Kuze hummed. "What makes you disagree, Taka?"
The fusilier scoffed. "Seriously? Look, I'm an obvious choice, aren't I? Someone to look up to, someone to trust… and I'm oldest, so."
Noiji shook his head at the last bit. “Pretty sure you’re, like, one of the youngest, actually.”
"Trust?" Paruko repeated doubtfully. "I definitely don't trust you. Nuh-uh. Not in the slightest."
"With her on that one!" Noiji laughed from his position on the floor. "Like, not in a wouldn't-trust-you-with-my-drink way, but. You'd probably eat my leftovers on purpose."
The gathered audience turned back to Taka to gauge his reaction. He just rolled his eyes. “And do you trust her any more than me?” he asked Noiji.
“No,” said Noiji immediately, and Paruko huffed at him.
“Well, who would you pick, then?” she asked, indignant. “Since you think you know what you’re talking about.”
“Never said that.” Noiji wagged a finger at her. “Never once did I say that, Paruko. In fact, most evidence points the other direction entirely. But since you’ve asked, well. Hm.” He thought. “I dunno. Ikkan? He seems pretty… mature about things.”
Taka breathed a laugh through his teeth. “Ikkan? Mature, maybe, but he’d take the first opportunity to get in a nap he got.” He gestured towards the couch. “For example.”
“Good point, good point.” Noiji thought some more. “What about Namida?”
“Not Namida,” interjected Ichiya. “Yeah, she looks mature and responsible, but man…” He just stared into space for a few seconds, jerking back to reality when the toaster popped up. “I’m tellin’ ya. She bites, for cod’s sake.”
“Do you still have the scar?” Murasaki asked. He was unwrapping a granola bar.
“Don’t eat that, you’ll ruin your dinner,” Taka grumbled. “No, look. Here. It wouldn’t be Ichiya or Noiji, for obvious reasons.”
“I agree with that,” hummed Noiji, and Ichiya said “Hey.”
“Not Shikaku or Raian, ‘cause they’re both too docile,” Taka continued, counting on his fingers (Raian crossed their arms defensively). “Not the eight-year-old, also for obvious reasons. Not Nishi, because I’ve known him for, like, almost a year and a half and still haven’t seen his whole face-”
“You still haven’t coughed up the 300,000,000 G I requested in trade,” Nishida shrugged.
“-and not me, and not Paruko. Who does that even leave?”
“Geez, man,” laughed Kuze. “I’m that forgettable?”
“ No ,” said Taka, very emphatic, and was about to go on when there was an awful, continuous grinding noise from the toaster. Everyone jumped.
“S’jammed,” said Paruko, and made a motion to fish the waffle out with her bare hands.
“Don’t do that, you moron .” Taka swatted her hand away. “You’ll get burned . Are there any wooden spoons in this joint?”
“It’s, like, a toaster,” Murasaki said to Kuze, pensively. They watched Taka scuttle into the kitchen, followed closely by Nishida and Ichiya, yanking open drawers in search of a non-metal spoon. “It’s gonna be hot. I’m no scientist, but if I remember last year’s chem class correctly, wood doesn’t do particularly well with open elements.”
“They’re not gonna stick it in there and leave it,” murmured Raian. “Hopefully.”
“Got a rubber spatula!” Ichiya crowed in victory, thrusting the utensil into the air above his head.
“That, uh. Rubber?” Paruko glanced back at the screaming toaster. It was starting to smoke. “What was wrong with my idea?”
“Possibly the bit about putting your hand in the toaster?” Raian suggested carefully.
Paruko lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Possibly.”
“Coming through!”
Kuze stepped aside to let Taka through, armed with the rubber spatula. There was a shuffling that caught his ear from the other side of the room and he glanced over; Ikkan had been roused by the commotion, staring blearily at them over the back of the couch. He mouthed what the hell? but Kuze could only shrug vaguely.
“Paruko!” Taka snapped, “Move your hand!”
“Almost got it,” Paruko murmured. She was pinching at the smouldering waffle carefully, fending off Taka with the other hand. “That’s rubber, you know. And this is a very warm, metal box.”
“Yes! Yes, very warm! That’s the- oh, for cod’s sake, stop putting your fingers in the damn-”
There was a faint whap sound as Taka smacked the spatula on Pauko’s forehead, and the rest of the room held their breath when the anemone stiffened. Kuze knew that Taka didn't mean to hurt her, of course, and hadn’t -it was barely a flick-of-the-wrist movement- but it was the thought that counted, really.
Taka hesitated for a second, and Paruko took the chance to yank the offending utensil from his faltering grip and pitch it across the room (Ikkan jerked his head out of the way to avoid being hit in the face). She dropped into a crouch, yanked the plug from the wall, and stuck her hand directly into the smoking mouth of the toaster, successfully snatching up the ruined waffle and throwing it at Taka’s feet. She then sent him an uncharacteristically bitter look and, tail thrashing in fury, stomped across the room, slammed the door open and slammed it shut again behind her.
There were a few beats of stunned silence. Smoke wafted through the air. Ichiya exchanged a look with Murasaki and crouched nervously to inspect the waffle-turned-charcoal-briquette.
The door creaked open and everyone looked up: it wasn't Paruko; instead Namida and Shikaku walked through the door, expressions uncertain. Namida blinked. She observed the wreckage of the scene briefly, then asked Ikkan, “What did we miss?”
Noiji, still on the floor, piped up, “Taka hit Paruko with a rubber spatula.”
Namida and Shikaku looked at Taka disapprovingly. Shikaku, especially- there was something in his glare that sent a shiver down Kuze’s spine, and he wasn’t even the target.
“Wh-! Not hard!” Taka protested, hands up defensively. “She was gonna put her hand in the toaster! Look, I- I’ll go apologise, huh? Man .”
“Ah,” said Shikaku, raising one claw, and Kuze didn’t miss the minute flinch from Taka (a wise man, Kuze thought, did his level best to avoid making Shikaku crabby). “Good. Do that. Just that Namida’s got some words to say, first, so don’t go just yet.”
Taka scowled at the inkling. Namida scowled back, one lip curling back to show her beak defensively. “It’ll only take a second, spatula-man.” She held her phone up at chest height and gave it a little shake. “About forty minutes ago, I got a text from management about a check-in. Me ‘n Shikaku were downstairs at the lobby phone, and the Inkopolis Emergency Services rang us up, just to make sure we’re all in one piece and okay until they get the power back on and stuff. So.” She shrugged. “I told them we’re good, so no one have any emergencies until we can get out of here, ‘kay? Cause the lines’ll be full up, they said.” The phone was shoved back in her pocket and she looked at Taka pointedly, one eyebrow raised.
“She’s probably in the suite,” Shikaku hummed, “if you’re gonna do that now.”
Taka flicked his tail in irritation. “Yeah, I got it.”
“Ooh,” said Noiji. “Can I do the waffles?”
“Do whatever you want ,” Taka jeered, and all but pushed past Shikaku and Namida to get to the door. He didn’t slam it as hard as Paruko had, but the spirit was certainly there.
“ Honestly . What a guy,” Namida grunted, rolling her eyes and moving to sit on the arm of the couch. “I would not be upset if he just didn’t come back.”
“He’s not so bad,” Nishida shrugged. “Usually, anyway. Gets worked up.”
“Really?” chuckled Shikaku. “Noiji, get up here. We’re doin’ waffles.”
“Shell yeah!”
Kuze prodded the burnt waffle (still on the ground) with one foot. Charred crumbs fell off. “Ya think we should go after ‘im, Nishida?”
“Probably,” Nishida agreed. “As long as there’s still waffles when we get back.”
Noiji, having overheard, flashed Nishida a thumbs-up and classic blinding grin. “We’ll save some for you guys, don’t worry!!”
“Probably,” Murasaki added. “Most likely.”
Nishida considered this, then shook his head in amusement. “Good enough for me.”
Kuze chortled, and off they went.
…
They found Taka outside the door to ABXY’s suite, a floor up. He was leaning against the wall, scrolling in an agitated sort of way on his phone, and scowled at them when they raised a hand in greeting.
“What, come to make sure I’m not gonna assault her again?” he whispered tersely, scales along his jawbone rising in irritation.
“No,” Nishida whispered back. “Just checking in on you.”
“You alright, man?” Kuze asked gently. “You seem kinda upset.”
Taka sneered for a beat, and then jammed his phone in one jacket pocket to preen his scales back in order. “I’m fine, huh? Nothin’ to get worked up over, ‘kay?”
Nishida exchanged a knowing glance with Kuze. “…have you spoken to her, yet?”
“No,” Taka hissed, and then backtracked. “I’m going to, I just- grr.”
“Yeah,” Kuze agreed. “I get it. Hey, man, just get it over with. You didn’t mean it, did you? Just tell ‘er.”
Taka stared at him. In the brief silence, they could hear the burble and beep of someone on the other side of the door playing a video game at high volume. Taka glanced at the door, growled to himself, and made a slow turn to knock hesitantly. The game noises stopped after a second.
“…yes,” came Paruko’s voice flatly.
Taka didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Nishida prodded his tail with one foot and the fusilier sent him a glare, but cleared his throat. “Uh. Paruko.”
A pause followed. “…Taka,” said Paruko. “What?”
“I,” said Taka, and crossed his arms. “I came to… apologise.”
A few more beats of silence. Nishida and Kuze exchanged another look.
“Okay,” said Paruko. “Well. Are you going to?”
“ Yes ,” Taka sneered, then sighed. “I- I’m sorry I hit you with the rubber spatula. Shouldn’ta done that.”
“Okay,” said Paruko, after an apparent moment of consideration. “It’s cool.”
Taka blinked, like he hadn’t expected it to be that easy. “Really?”
There was a shuffling from inside the room, and then the door cracked open. Paruko, throw blanket wrapped around her shoulders and hand-held console still in one hand, gazed evenly up at him (she was a good foot and a half shorter). “Yeah, really. I guess. It didn’t hurt or anything, just cheesed me off.” The door opened a bit wider. “I get it. You’re all buzzed out. Me, too.”
“Buzzed- what?”
“I don’t wanna be stuck here,” she shrugged. “Neither do you. I’m worked up about it, so are you.” She prodded him in the chest. “You gotta make me second in command to make up for it, though.”
“I,” said Taka, and looked to Kuze and Nishida for their opinions. “I. Okay. Sure, yeah. You’re second in command.”
“Cool,” Paruko nodded, and held out a fist. “I’m gonna stay in here for a lil bit, though.”
Taka carefully put out his own fist and bumped hers. “Sure.”
“Sure,” Paruko repeated, and put two fingers to her forehead in mock salute. “Later, alligator,” she told him, and quietly closed the door in his face. The game sounds immediately resumed.
Nishida and Kuze exchanged a third glance. “See?” Kuze grinned, elbowing Taka in the side. “Wasn’t so hard, man!”
“Shove it,” said Taka, and elbowed him in the shoulder. “I’m gonna grab some fresh air, if you chumps wanna join me.”
“Chumps,” Nishida muttered. “After all we’ve done for you.”
Taka scoffed, a smile faint in his expression. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. Still goin’.”
…
Kuze held the lobby door for Nishida, pulling his outer jacket tighter around his shoulders. “Man, it’s cold out here.” Their shadows stretched into the night, slicing long strips of darkness into the golden-hued lights from inside the warmth of the building.
Nishida nodded his thanks. He huffed a breath into the night air, smiling when it condensed as a cloud in the cold. “Oh, yeah. Brr.”
They fell into step beside one another, squinting against the snow swirling into their eyes (or at least Kuze was; Nishida likely didn’t have that problem), following Taka’s footprints in the drifts. The fusilier was leaning on his elbows on the stairwell railing, looking out over the city. He looked over at them when they crunched up beside him. “Kinda freaky, ain’t it?”
Kuze nodded. Inkopolis was always illuminated, neon signs and streetlights and cars scattering any shadows that dared to set foot in the city. City of Colour ? Try City of Lighting Bills . Especially this time of year, when a number of winter holidays took place. There would be decorative lights and lanterns strung around the streets by the kilometre, almost. The blackout and the storm had changed this, obviously, so the darkness that stretched out below them was out of place by a long shot, if not unsettling. A few windows here and there were illuminated, but that was all. It wasn’t quiet, though, the wind howling between the buildings, sirens screaming in the distance.
“You can see the stars, some, though,” Nishida murmured. “That’s nice.”
Kuze and Taka craned their heads upwards, straining to see between the clouds and the snowflakes. The muted cries of wind and whining siren only served to strengthen the feeling of insignificance with the universe stretching away over their heads between the grey of the storm. For a minute, the three of them just stared upwards in silence as the snow fell.
“…huh,” said Kuze, at some length, and the other two chuckled.
“Could say that, yeah,” Taka agreed, and Nishida nodded. Then he quietly added “Thanks for… checking in on me.”
“’Couse, dawg!” Kuze thumped him on the shoulder. “Just makin’ sure you're cool, is all.”
Taka nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I’m cool. Lookin’ forwards to getting out’a here, but cool.” He looked over. “You guys are cool?”
“I’m cool,” Nishida hummed.
“As ice ,” Kuze laughed, and then shivered for unintentional emphasis. “Maybe I should invest in one’a those tail-cover things.”
“Have fun looking like a preschool fry, then,” Taka snickered.
“Might be worth it, honestly.”
Nishida tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. “Yeah, but how many times are you actually gonna wear it? It usually doesn’t even get this cold. And half the time, I don’t even bother wearing a hat, much less a glorified windsock.”
“Not gonna be on my Squidmas list, that’s fer sure,” Taka said. Then he paused, scrunched his face up in thought, and turned around to face the doors. “Oh, for cod’s sake.”
“What?” asked Kuze, and at the same time noticed their shadows had disappeared, along with the light from indoors behind them.
“Bloody lights are out,” Taka sighed, “which probably means the generator’s kicked it.” He glanced back at the city for a second, then hiked his collar up around his ears. “C’mon. Let’s go see what we can do.”
They got back inside, dumping their coats and shoes unceremoniously in the entrance. Kuze untied his hair and shook the snow out, retying it when it was thoroughly snow-free. Taka produced the same set of keys from earlier, locking the outer doors and muttering something about at least they had the competence to give him these. Kuze nearly tripped over a fake plant on their way over to the stairwell, where they parted.
“Nishi,” Taka instructed, “you should probably get upstairs and let people know what’s happenin’. Me ‘n cous-cous have already been in the boiler room, so we should be good.”
Nishida nodded, smiling in the dark and raising one hand in salute. “Whatever you say, Sarge. Catch ya’ later, then.”
“Godspeed,” was Taka’s response, and saluted after Nishida’s form as he disappeared up the steps. Kuze followed behind when the fusilier turned tail and headed for the basement. “Shouldn’t have been on this thing,” he sighed to Kuze, jiggling his phone. “Battery’s almost dead. Too bad we don’t have flashlight boy with us, he’d be helpful.”
Kuze only nodded, focusing on not tripping over his own feet a second time in the dark.
“I guess the phone doesn’t complain, though. One bonus.”
“He wasn’t complaining that much,” Kuze chuckled.
“He complained enough ,” Taka retorted teasingly. “The man gets his own built-in lightshow and decides to whine-”
He cut himself off suddenly, and Kuze almost ran into him when he stopped just as sharply on the steps. “Wha-?”
“Hush,” said Taka. “I thought I saw something move down there.”
Kuze slunk onto the step beside him. “…saw what something?”
Taka didn’t respond for a minute or so, just staring into the darkness. Eventually, he half-whispered, “Dunno. Gods, am I gonna be glad to get out of here.”
Kuze couldn’t help but share the sentiment.
The boiler room door seemed to come up much slower than it should have, shadows from the phone flickering over the walls as they descended. Of course, they hadn’t locked the door the first time, but…
Neither of them made a move to go in.
“I closed that,” said Kuze quietly. “I'm pretty dang sure I closed that.”
Taka glowered at the door to the boiler room. It swung slightly more open with the draft, creaking as it went. “Maybe you thought you did,” he tried, “and it didn’t quite click.”
Kuze furrowed his brow.
Taka pulled on the door gently, stepping back as it swung open. “Well. Not a big deal. Let’s see what’s up with this thing.”
“How come you know so much about this type’a tech, anyway?” Kuze found himself asking- if nothing else, to distract from the fact he most certainly closed the door on the way up earlier.
“Mm.” Taka didn’t respond for a few seconds, sweeping the phone’s flashlight around the room with what seemed, if Kuze’s eyes did not deceive him, to be an air of nervousness. “Took a class on it a few years back. Dunno why. Thought it was interesting.”
Kuze nodded. “Sure.” Personally, he didn’t care much one way or another about backup generators, but he supposed some folk had to. “So… what’s up with it?”
“Hell if I know,” Taka shrugged. “Might just have died, because if they’re piling up office supplies around the thing, it probably isn’t getting tested like it’s supposed to. Man, do you smell that?”
Kuze did smell that. It was the same salty, moth-ball-y scent from the first time, only the salty bit was stronger. “Flashlight boy- I mean. Shell. Ikkan was saying it smelled like ink, to him.”
Taka wrinkled his nose. “ Ink ? Gross. Why would there be ink in here?”
“S’probably not one of our squids.” Kuze watched his bandmate prod around to the back of the silent generator. “And there’s no staff around, for some reason, so… I'm not sure.”
There came a metallic thumping sound as Taka decided to give the tried-and-true method of Hit The Thing Until It Behaves a go. Nothing happened. “Yeah, this thing’s dead. That’s gotta be, like, so many different violations of code.”
“So,” said Kuze slowly, “it’s dead dead.”
“Yuh-huh.” Taka stepped back to stand beside him, pointing the flashlight at it. “Which means the furnace is out, and the water heater, and, like. Y’know, the lights.” He hummed then, expression wearied. “And the emergencies usually only go for, like, two hours, anyways, so. We’re gonna be in the dark pretty soon.”
“Not good?”
“Yeah, no.”
Kuze squinted at the lifeless machine. It continued to loom uselessly at him out of the darkness. “Well, could… could you fix it?”
“No?” groaned Taka, disbelieving. “Why would I know how to fix a cod-damned backup generator? I don’t even know where I’d start, Kuze.”
“Hey, no need to turn on me, man,” Kuze retorted, shooting him a glare. “You were the one who said you took a class on the subject, how am I to know?”
Taka sighed. “Yeah, yeah, sorry, I just…” he clicked the phone off, shoving it in his pocket, letting the light of the emergency LEDs over the door do the brunt work. “Y’know, I'm just tired, man. Got all hyped up about the concert, ‘n then… no concert.”
“No concert,” huffed Kuze, and stuck his hand up to count on his fingers. “No concert, snowed in, power outage… yeah. I know what you mean.”
“Just waiting for the cherry on top, myself,” Taka chuckled, patting Kuze on the shoulder. “Like, what else could go wrong?”
Kuze elbowed him gently. “Don’t go sayin’ that, dawg. You're gonna invoke some angry spirits, or something.” He glanced back out into the room nervously. “…or whatever it was you thought you saw, earlier.”
“That’s- it was prob’ly just shadows.” Taka shifted uncomfortably. “But, like. We should get out’a here, anyway.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”
Taka just huffed a laugh through his nose. “Yeah, me neither. I’ll get the door.”
Kuze waited at the foot of the steps for him while the door was shut. Taka pushed it closed, locked it, and then they both stood there for a few seconds, glaring at the thing to make sure it behaved.
“I mean,” Kuze suggested, “someone else from upstairs could’a come down to check things out, right?”
“Really,” Taka scoffed, still staring very deliberately at the door. “Do ya really think any of them would think to come down here to check it out?”
“Well,” admitted Kuze. “No.”
“Yeah. No.” The fusilier pivoted, shot the door one last affronted glance, and shooed Kuze up the stairs. “I just hope there’s waffles left.”
…
“Oh,” said Kuze, when the door to the once-again-dark Rec Room swung open to almost nobody. And the smell of waffles. “I guess people turned in?”
Nishida, curled against the arm of the couch on the remaining cushion, didn’t even look up from his phone. “Well, it is ten-thirty. And Squid Squad’s got a whole sixteen-year-old to keep up with, so I don’t blame them.” He stood, stretched, and thumbed over at the folding table, half-hidden in the shadows where the emergency lights almost didn’t reach. “There’s waffles, if you want some. I’m probably gonna pop into our room soon, too. It’s late.”
“…it’s ten-thirty.” Taka shook his head. “Bunch’a senior citizens, the lot of ya.” He went over to the folding table, continuing “So you let everyone know, right? About the generator. Y’know, in case they didn’t notice.”
Nishida nodded. “Well, most of them, anyway. Everyone was in their rooms when I got back, more or less, except Paruko.”
Taka blinked. “Whaddu’ya mean, except Paruko? Where is she?”
Nishida stared back at him (one could only assume he returned the blink in confusion). “I… don’t know? Why does that matter?”
Taka furrowed his brow as he bit into a waffle. “Well, you know,” he said, mouth full. “She is second-in-command. Should probably keep track of her.”
“Shouldn’t we tell people about the emergency lights probably shutting off, anyway?” Kuze suggested. “We could check up on ABXY’s rooms first, and see if she’s there, right?”
“My good man, what an excellent idea.” Taka shoved the rest of the waffle in his mouth and pointed towards the door dramatically. “Onwawf an’ u’warf, mghn.”
“What?” said Nishida.
“Uh,” said Kuze. “’Onwards and upwards, men’. I think.”
Taka nodded, marching them back out into the hall.
…
“ Allll righty,” Taka announced, when Shikaku opened the suite door after their knock. “We’re lookin’ for the anemone of the state, people. She in here? Also, the lights are prob’ly gonna go out again soon, just so ya know.”
Shikaku glanced behind him into the semi-darkness of the room. Noiji and Raian, sprawled across one bed and messing with some video game or another, looked up and shrugged. “Nope. We thought she went with you guys?”
“Hm.” Taka crossed his arms thoughtfully, tail twitching in thought. “Where else would she be?”
Shikaku made an ‘I don’t know’ noise. “Noiji?”
“Maybe in the Rec Room? Unless you just came from there,” Noiji called. He glanced at Raian and nodded. “Raian says maybe with the Squad.” He sat up suddenly, fumbling for one pocket. “Oh, or I could just call her!”
Kuze and Nishida leant around Taka’s form to watch as Noiji poked around on his phone screen, holding it out in front of his face as it rang. His phone-illuminated expression dropped when the ringing seemed to echo from the other side of the room.
Raian slid off the bed and slowly followed the sound to an armchair, covered in the same throw blanket Paruko had been wearing earlier and glowing faintly from one spot. They shuffled it around for a second and then produced her phone, playing a tinny Squid Sisters melody as Noiji called. “Um,” they said.
“…huh,” said Shikaku. “That’s odd.”
Taka raised an eyebrow.
Noiji stood to look over Raian’s shoulder at the phone, screen reflected in his pupils. “Uh. If you guys are gonna go up to Squid Squad’s room, can we come, too?”
…
“What do they want, Mura?”
“They say they’re looking for Paruko,” Murasaki called back to Namida, “and have we seen her?”
The not-quite-yet-search-party swarmed hopefully outside the door. Murasaki opened it wider, stepping aside to let the rest of Squid Squad take a look at them.
“Oh,” said Namida. “Well- no. Not for a while, at least.”
“When was the last time you saw her?” Ichiya piped up. “She’s not in her room?”
Taka thumbed behind himself at the nervous looking remaining members of ABXY, rolling his eyes. “No, not in her room.” He looked to Kuze. “When did we see her last?”
Kuze shrugged. “Maybe… I dunno, forty minutes or so? Give or take.”
“Oh, and Taka says that the emergency lights are probably gonna be going out, soon,” added Nishida. “Just so you know.”
“That won’t help.” Murasaki pulled his phone from his pocket. “Yeesh, mine’s almost dead. But- have you, like, tried calling her, or something?”
Noiji pushed forwards, nodding. “Yeah, and she didn’t pick up, because she left her phone in our room.” He glanced up at Taka, expression uneasy. “I hate to sound old, but she’s really attached to her phone. She doesn’t just leave it places like that.”
Taka nodded. “We should look for her before we’re in total darkness, then.” He pointed into the room past Murasaki, where the yet-again-asleep form of Ikkan was curled in a ball on the low futon. “And someone get flashlight boy up, because he’ll be important.”
…
Noiji crossed his arms, usually bright demeanour visibly dampened, foot tapping anxiously. “I don’t get it,” he said plainly. “It’s not that big of a building, right? And- and why would she bother to be avoiding us, if that was the case? You said you made up, right?”
“ Yes ,” Taka snipped at him. He glanced up as Nishida went past, groaning when the herring just shook his head.
“How long’s it been?” Kuze asked. “You know, the lights- do you think they have any actual flashlights downstairs anywhere?”
“They should, if they have any sense at all. And I dunno. Long enough.”
“Twenty minutes,” said Noiji. “I mean, I went through all the closets, even. Where is she?”
“ How ,” said Taka, tone sharp and snappish, tail thrashing in agitation, “on earth should I know?”
Kuze shuffled uneasily. They’d been looking for Paruko for almost half an hour, now, scrounging through dark, empty rooms, side closets, and even a glance outside. She had just disappeared, it seemed, no traces left behind. At the very least, the emergency lights had yet to go out, but the knowledge they soon would was only eating at everyone’s already thin nerves. It was wearing the most on Taka, for reasons Kuze could maybe guess at, and they’d paused in their searching for a moment to gather their thoughts.
“I mean, her parasite’s not shown up, so that makes me think, you know, she’s not dropped dead, or anything,” Taka continued. “The fish would tell you if something happened, right?”
“I don't even know if Bipu could get us if they needed.” Noiji shook himself. “And don’t say she’s dropped dead, huh? It’s not funny.”
Taka opened his mouth, prepared to make a smart remark about something or other, and paused when Raian came up to them, looking even more nervous than usual. They cleared their throat to speak. “Um,” they said.
Taka swivelled to face them. “Yeah? What?”
“Uh,” said Raian quietly. “I, uh. I think I… Might have. Found, uh.
“You found ‘er?”
Raian shook their head. “No, but I- uh.”
“You found something ?” Kuze pressed them. “Where?”
The octopus nodded, hands clasped together, trembling slightly. “I- I think, uh. It’s- down in the hall, near the balcony entrance, the, uh- it- the rug’s got-”
“ Out with it, kid,” Taka snapped. “This is serious, huh?”
Noiji sent Taka an uncharacteristically stern glare. “ Hush ,” he intoned, and then turned to Raian, placing a steadying hand on their shoulder. “What did you find, man?” he asked, softer.
Raian swallowed thickly. “Um,” they managed, hands fidgeting over their chest. “I think it’s blood, actually.”